Nothing can supply the place of books. They are cheering or soothing companions in solitude, illness, affliction. The wealth of both continents would not compensate for the good they impart.

Books are company that asks nothing of you. In a bad stretch, when you are alone or ill or simply flattened, a book will keep you occupied without requiring you to be good company back, and it will take you somewhere other than the room you are in. That is a very particular kind of usefulness and little else substitutes for it. It also costs almost nothing relative to what it gives.

Keep something readable within reach of wherever you end up when things are hard. And if someone you know is facing a long illness or a long wait, a book is a better gift than it looks.